


AU after AU

by ChasetheSun2



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Canon Compliant, Canon Relationships, Death, Drabbles, Gen, Implied Relationships, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Polyshipping, Requests, Violence, implied characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-27 19:24:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10815183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasetheSun2/pseuds/ChasetheSun2
Summary: Drabble requests from Tumblr. In which Feferi lives her worst fears, Eridan leaves Alternia and never looks back, Sollux gives up a stupid plan to comfort his best friend, John's prank misfires, Cronus and his father duke it out, the Signless has to make a choice, and Kurloz paints his favourite subject.NOW COMPLETE





	1. Prompt 1: Worst Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feferi never thought she'd see such betrayal.

Yellow splatters fill your vision. 

The world shrinks to a pinpoint. Your breaths catch in your throat and your brain receives signals of can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe as you stare, transfixed, at your almost-matesprit’s corpse. 

Your mouth is moving and you register that you’re speaking in a high, terrified tone, but you don’t even hear your own words. It’s just garbled nonsense. Never, not once in your wildest dreams, have you felt this utterly and completely betrayed.

Not even in your worst daymares have you ever imagined this scenario, not at his hands. 

Your friends are dying, or dead, your once best friend and moirail has turned his back on you and now - now he’s murdered someone you cared for. 

Fuchsia blurs your vision and stains your cheeks. Anger boils in your gut; true, hot rage the likes of which you’ve never felt. Your worst fears are coming to life in front of your very eyes, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You’ve never felt so powerless, so hopeless. So enraged.

You’re lunging at him, a terrible scream in your throat, your trident raised above your head. You know that when it reaches him, its aim will be sure and true–

But it never reaches him.

Your breaths end off in a shaken, ragged gasp of air as you feel white-hot pain lance through your chest. You fall backwards, and see his cold face above yours, staring down at you. With your last moments of dimming vision you almost think you see a hint of remorse in his face.

At least you aren’t afraid of death.


	2. Prompt 2: Astronaut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eridan has a very good reason why he will never return to Alternia.  
> 

_Astronaut - rooted Greek; Astro + nautes; ‘Star sailor’_

When you’d said you’d wanted to be a Captain this was not what you’d meant. Yet somehow, you wouldn’t give it up for all the colonies in the Empire.

Instead of a sturdy ship aboard the waters made of wood and iron, upon your promotion to Captain you’d been given a starship; made of titanium and glass and made to travel much farther and faster than you could have ever imagined. 

Being an Orphaner was no longer your destiny. Alternia was no longer your home. Feferi had assigned you a better role upon her ascension to Empress. 

(It had nothing to do with her lusus currently being cared for by other, younger, trolls.)

The ship was scheduled to lift off from its current port at a storage outpost in less than ten minutes. You stood tall and proud, overlooking the trolls under your command with your hands clasped behind your back, a frown on your handsome features. You ruled your ship with a commanding tone these days, one that’d lost its anxious _wwavver_ of days past and traded it in for something husky and sharp. 

No one underneath you would dare question your command like they would the boy who you’d once been.

Your vision blurs for a moment, focuses on your reflection instead. You’d grown into a straight-laced and stern troll, no longer carrying your violet colour in your hair but on your uniform, two jagged slashes across the back of your jacket and on your lapel in shining violet and gold embroidery. You’d exchanged your thick plastic rimmed glasses for something small and oval, sitting framed by gold wire on the bridge of your nose. 

Feferi said she liked how distinguished it made you look. Mature though you may be, you would still follow her to the ends of the Empire and if she liked it, so did you.

The ship’s engines underneath you rumbled, pulling you from your thoughts. You were beginning the process of stabilizing and pulling away from the satellite outpost. Any green in the gills sailor would have been knocked off balance by the sudden jerk, but you. You’ve been sailing your whole life on some ship or another. You’re used to this.

The ship disembarks and suddenly, you’re visually reminded of why you never want to go back to Alternia.

It’s the stars. 

Bright and shining, spinning in vast whorls and forming huge clusters and constellations. Planets dotted your view of the cluster galaxy, pinging on your radar, but visible as giants that sometimes even blotted out the system’s sun from your windows. There’s a whole universe out there, vaster than any sea and infinitely more full - yet, somehow, achingly empty. 

You long to reach out, extend your hand and touch every last corner, know the universe more intimately than you even know yourself. You want to see it all, experience everything the universe has to offer. You want to see new planets, name new stars and constellations after people you’ve known, people you’ve yet to know–

“Captain?”

A voice whispers in your ear; you’d forgotten that you had your communicator in. With a sigh, you answer it. “Yes, I’m here.”

“The inventory is done tallying. Mind coming down and signing off on it?”

A Captain’s work is never done. You nod, despite no one being around to see it. “I’ll be right down.” You say. With one last look out the portside window, you head to the cargo bay of your ship.

You are a loyal Captain, a fierce commander. You are also in love with the stars. 

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you would not give up this life for the world.

 


	3. Prompt 3: Quiet Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sollux made a mistake and has to soothe an enraged Karkat.

“Shooooosh.”

“Don’t you fucking shoosh me.” Karkat’s eyes were bright red and burning with fury as he looked at his best friend and the resident psion of their group, Sollux. “You lispy little nooksore, did you seriously think for one goddamn second that I’d let you get away with _more_  stupid, nonsensical self-sacrificing bullshit?!”

Sollux sat on a log and poked idly at a nearby drone hull with his psionics. The thing was well and truly dead, thanks to the veritable tornado he called his best friend and his sickles. He huffed lightly.

“I didn’t think-”

“No, you clearly didn’t!” Karkat’s voice was rising to a shriek now, high and enraged. His eyes and cheeks were wet but Sollux seriously doubted that Karkat even noticed the red tears streaming down his face. “You clearly were not thinking! If you were thinking you wouldn’t have notified the goddamn helmshunters to your coordinates and _walked out to meET THEM LIKE A FUCKING–”_

_Shooooosh.”_ Sollux stood up this time and carefully edged towards his best friend. The other was still steaming mad, furious even, and still wielding his sickles. Sollux was smart enough to realise that even he was in danger if he made the wrong move while Karkat was riled up like this. “Deep breaths, alright? I wasn’t going to actually go with them. Do you seriously think I’m that stupid?”

Karkat’s teeth bared and he gave a spitting little snarl. “I think you’re that reckless.”

Sollux inched backwards for a moment, hesitant. He didn’t like getting close to trolls that could easily rip out his throat, but this was Karkat, and right now, Karkat needed him.

“Come on.” He said. There was a pleading little note to his voice, quiet and pitiful, trying to appeal to Karkat’s paler tendencies. He moved slow so the antsy troll could telegraph his every movement, reaching out for Karkat’s cheek. “Deep breaths. Shooosh, Karkat. See, they’re dead-”

“Thanks to me.” He was growling now, but at least Karkat was starting to relax. 

“-thanks to you, but I could have taken them out myself. I was going to before you showed up.”

“Bullshit!” Karkat spat, and Sollux flinched. “You’re curious, aren’t you? Ever since you found out about _him–”_

Sollux looked away. “…Maybe I was waiting until I had proof before I did anything.” He admitted. Karkat snarled again and his fists clenched on his sickles. Sollux had to fight the urge to move back, freezing up out of pure fear. He normally wouldn’t be afraid of Karkat but the other was this close to being in a rage and Sollux was far too close for even a delicate optic blast to be anything short of deadly.

“By the time you had proof you’d be hanging in those wires right beside him, you insufferable idiotic smear!” Karkat hissed. Even in the situation that stung; Karkat wasn’t normally one to call his friends down to the dirt even with his colourful vocabulary. “Is that what you want? Is that what you think he would want?!”

Sollux sighed softly, swallowed, cupped Karkat’s face and wiped away the fresh tears. Now that he was touching the other again he could tell that Karkat was trembling violently. 

“You’re right.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Sollux’s hands brushed against the bases of Karkat’s horns as they arched off his forehead and Karkat let out a warbling chirp. Under all that rage he’d been _terrified_ and Sollux’s heart throbbed with pity.

“You’d better be.” Karkat whispered.

 


	4. Prompt 4: Prankster's Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's prank backfires terribly.

John was covered from head to toe in what could only be described as goop.

It had been coconut cream, at some point, but a backfired prank and a certain mechanic’s astute lack of humor had left him covered in his own pie. Scratch back a point for his prankster’s gambit.

“Oh, dear.” Equius said, oblivious to what John had tried to pull and looking around for some sort of cloth. “I’m sorry, John, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine!” John’s voice was a little shrill. He cleared his throat, coughed, and tried again. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect you to just - I mean, you’re so-”

“Strong?” Equius looked back at him and raised a brow. John swallowed and nodded. He tried to stop his eyes from flicking to Equius’ back, his broad shoulders as the troll turned to the sink. “My apologies. Despite all my attempts I find that I am still only partially capable of controlling my considerable strength.”

Both of them glanced to the crushed gift box on the floor and the busted spring mechanism. Equius, not used to pranks of John’s level, had been spooked by a sudden flying pie and had crushed the contraption, causing it to misfire - landing all over John in the process.

Equius’ ears were a light blue as he finally found a cloth, wetting it down at John’s sink. As carefully as possible he wrung it out. For a moment, it looked as if he were about to help John by cleaning him off, then looked away awkwardly, instead handing him the cloth.

“…Here.” He mumbled. “Do you make a habit of attempting to frighten everyone with weaponized gifts?”

“Thanks.” John wiped off his face, at the very least, so he wasn’t covered in warm cream. “And it’s not _weaponized,_ it’s just a pie. It’s a prank.”

Equius raised a brow. “Fine, then,” He said, cocking his head in what John assumed was analytical curiosity. “Do you _prank_  everyone?”

“Only the special ones.” John said. It was only when Equius choked and turned a deep blue in the face that John realised what he’d said. His eyes went wide behind his glasses. Immediately the two of them started stammering over one another.

“Dammit, I didn’t want to just out and say it -”

“While your black advances are appreciated, John, I can assure you–”

“Black? What? No, listen, it’s because–”

“–That my affections for you run quite the opposite direction.”

“It’s because I like you!”

Both of them froze.

“..What.”

“What.”

 


	5. Prompt 5: Fight Me Proper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cronus faces off against a much older version of himself - and fights dirty.

The fist hit Cronus’ face before he could even think to react.

When his therapist had told Cronus he needed to learn how to get his feelings out constructively, he didn’t think this was what she meant. But hell, this definitely helped. 

The crowd around the pavement ring was baying for blood as he went down with a solid thud and an ‘oof’. That stung. The left side of his jaw radiated pain and he rubbed it as he got up again. His opponent, a person much taller and much more threatening than him who went only by Dualscar in the ring, smirked at him lightly.

“Just stay down, boy. Give up.”

“Not bloody likely.” Cronus rolled his shoulders, subtly adjusting the ace bandages under his bloodied white tanktop before squaring off again. His wrapped hands rolled into fists and he raised his arms in a boxer’s guarding stance. 

Dualscar laughed and lunged again, but this time he was ready. He ducked and weaved, aiming a sharp jab at the taller man’s ribs. He was blocked by the hardest slap he’d ever felt in his life. It knocked him to the ground again and he gave a grunt as he _rolled_  across the cement.

Along the sidelines Cronus could see his best friend looking at him nervously, hands clenched into fists at his stomach in worry. Horuss gave him a thumbs down; _pull out now, you can’t keep going like this. Four matches is enough, don’t ruin it._

Cronus looked away.

“You’re outta your league, boy,” Dualscar taunted. “Come on, now, you mighta beat the other whelps here but you’re not gettin’ by me.”

Cronus spat onto the concrete and there was blood in his saliva. He wiped his mouth and looked up at the gloating fighter. It was then that he noticed a wide-open weak spot and his expression turned from sullen and angry to a wild, almost sharklike grin. Hunger burned in his eyes. 

A shiver went down Horuss’ spine as he saw that feral look in Cronus’ eyes. Cronus stood up again and cracked his neck. While Dualscar wasn’t looking he pounced, landing on the other’s back and driving his heels straight down against the other’s lower spine. The larger man let out a yelp and went down like a stone. In any legal ring, that would definitely disqualify him.

But this wasn’t a legal ring. Anything went here except weapons and the short Ampora was going to take advantage of that.

“Get offa me!” Dualscar growled, his face firmly mashed into the cement. Cronus’ grin only widened. He knelt down, pinning Dualscar. Both of them knew it; knockout was the only way to win. He pulled Dualscar’s head up roughly by the hair, a bloodthirsty look in his eyes.

“Nah.” He said, clicking his tongue and giving the older man a wink before slamming his head down into the concrete with a sickening _crunch._

* * *

“Was that really necessary?”

Horuss was still grumbling as he drove not one, but two bruised and bloody bodies back to their house. Cronus Ampora Sr. had one hell of a migraine and would likely have to stay up all night to stave off a coma from his son’s final move, but he was glowing with pride. Cronus Junior looked no better, the left side of his face swollen under his ice pack and his nose once again broken from a previous fight.

“Oh, totally!” He said, giving a faint wheeze in an attempt to laugh. “About time I got a win over my old man. What do you think, huh, Pops?”

“I don’t say I’ll be doin’ much thinkin’ about anything til this concussion goes away.” He said, but there was a grin on his face nonetheless. “But good job. Now pay up.”

Cronus matched his father’s grin with one of his own. He reached down between his feet in the car, grabbing his backpack. Inside was a thick envelope with a sizable wad of cash; Cronus’ winnings for the night. He split it three ways; giving one stack to his father, and one to Horuss. 

“You two are going to kill yourselves one day.” Horuss grouched as he nonetheless pocketed the money. 

 


	6. Prompt 6: Enamored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Signless has to make a choice: A or B. He chooses C.

The Signless didn’t really know what to think of the crudely written card and clearly wild picked flowers that were hovering an inch from his face.

Tentatively, he plucked the card from the air, hoping that there was enough control of the psionic energy around them not to shock him. He breathed a sigh of relief when all he got was a pleasant little tingle. Unfortunately, the control over both the flowers and the card went out at once so he had to scramble to catch the loosely tied bouquet before he could read what had been written.

_Kanny,_  The card read in childish handwriting. Some words were scratched out, clearly misspelled and retried.

_Mew wanted two wriite the card but II iin2ii2ted._ (The S’s were all backwards, how cute. Meulin would have to correct Mituna on that later but right now Kankri couldn’t help but adore it.) _We’ve been fiightiing over who 2hould be your mate2priit and we can’t wiin 2o we’re a2kiing you two choo2e._

_Mew 2ay2 that come2 off weiird. Whatever._

The Signless chuckled softly and shook his head, looking around. From one corner of the camp he could see Mother cooking by the fire, humming softly, and their ring of tents. From the other, a row of thick trees and the river. Behind a set of bushes he spotted two bright pairs of eyes - one red and blue, the other bright olive - that widened the moment he took a step towards them.

“You two don’t have to hide and watch, you know. Which one of you figured out that I like forget-me-nots?” He asked, an amused tone to his voice. 

Instantly both of them stood up, Mituna comically towering sticklike and bony over the short, muscular woman. “She did,” He said, sounding like he was admitting defeat. Meulin glowed with pride. 

Kankri shook his head with a smile. “And you wrote the note?”

“I did.” This time it was Mituna’s turn to grin, all fangs behind his thin lips. Meulin pouted, signing. _I had to correct his spelling._

“I noticed.” There was no mocking in the Signless’ voice, only understanding. He looked between them both. They wanted him to choose, but really, how could he? “So, you really want to know which one of you I would take as my matesprit?”

Both of them nodded eagerly. Kankri smiled, taking both their hands and leaning up to kiss first Mituna, then Meulin tenderly. Both of them looked stunned and Kankri had to laugh, shaking his head.

“So, you mean –” Mituna started, and Meulin finished, though her voice was a tad loud in her excitement.

“Both…?”

Kankri nodded, still laughing. Their faces were priceless. “Really, you two, you should have seen this coming a mile away. Especially you, Meu.”

Meulin huffed and folded her arms, but when he pulled the both of them in for a tight embrace, neither one of them complained.

From the other side of the camp, one Porrim Maryam mumbled a quiet ‘finally’ as she watched her children finally come to their senses.

 


	7. Prompt 7: Pale Paints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kankri has no idea what his palemate is doing but he's sure it's mischief.

“What are you doing?”

Kankri looked up from his book to see Kurloz deeply focused on his sketchbook. It wasn’t unusual for Kankri to see his palemate working on something in there but it was a little odd that he kept glancing up at Kankri every couple of strokes. 

Seeing Kankri had looked up, Kurloz’s stitched lips pulled up into a frown. He raised his non-dominant hand to sign even as he continued to draw. 

_Stop moving._

Kankri blinked and his cheeks went bright red, the color spreading straight to his ears as he realised what Kurloz was doing. With a flustered huff he went back to reading, glancing up to see the little satisfied smile on Kurloz’s lips as the original pose was back.

It was almost half an hour later that Kurloz got up. Kankri’s ears twitched and he looked up, almost excited to see how his diamond had portrayed him. There, on the page, sat a much more graceful, elegant Kankri than the Vantas had ever seen himself to be. All long lines and sleek curves, even his nubby little horns look beautiful, his lower lip bitten full and soft by his constant worrying.   
  
Kankri admired it, then his ears drooped. “I don’t look like that,” He said. “The real me–”

_The real you looks exactly like that to me._

Kurloz smiled as he signed out the words and Kankri blushed straight to the tips of his ears. He gave a flustered grumble and butted his horn against Kurloz’s jaw in a stubborn show of affection. Kurloz chuckled, patting his hair gently.

“…Flatterer.”

 


	8. Prompt 8: Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go a little differently when Equius faces off against Gamzee.

“Nepeta…?”

Equius’ voice echoed off the glass incubation tanks that held replications of their lusii. Karkat had ‘ordered’ him to come down here, but he hadn’t taken it seriously until he’d heard whimpers in what sounded like Nepeta’s voice and a sharp crack of bone. His blood had run cold.

“Nepeta, I order you to come out this instant.”

His voice was shaky for once with fear. Another echo greeted his words this time and it made him shudder; a high-pitched cackle rattled the tanks and made the freakish experiments inside twitch and stir slightly. Equius was slightly tempted to run. If Karkat had been right he did not want to face a murderous clown - and even if he’d been wrong those creatures were too close to looking like they wanted out for him to be comfortable.

“Nepeta this is no time to be playing hide and seek!” Equius’ voice carried a sharp note of alarm now; he’d been sure that he’d heard her down here! “Come out, now–”

Equius heard a thud and whirled. He froze.

Green splattered the floor in a wide circle behind him. It was all he saw for a moment, and despite how he wanted to look away it was all he could focus on. Thick, green rivers of blood crawled their way along the floor away from its source. The source being the splayed out troll on the ground in front of the incubation tank.

This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. Nepeta’s limbs were bent at the wrong angles from the fall, one wrist clearly broken. Equius thought he was going to be sick as he got closer and realised she’d been _scalped._  The person who’d done it hadn’t been satisfied to just take her hat, no. He’d taken her hair and scalp as well like some sort of sick trophy.

That cackling echoed of the walls of the room yet again but this time it sent a thrill of rage, not fear, through Equius’ body. His teeth bared so hard that the remaining ones cracked even further but he didn’t care. 

“ _Get out here and face me!”_  He snarled.

More laughter. An arrow whizzed by his cheek, slicing it open, but clearly missing its intended target. Equius looked up and growled, body tense and taut with white-hot loathing. 

He’d found Nepeta’s hat. It sat atop Gamzee’s head, sticky clumps of hair underneath giving Equius a clear idea that he was wearing her scalp as well. His stomach knotted and he let out a threatening hiss. Gamzee’s twisted grin only widened as thick rivulets of green mixed with the indigo on his face. Equius felt something akin to satisfaction to see that Nepeta had scratched him, and quite deeply from the looks of it.

“Kneel.” Gamzee’s voice was rough and commanding and for a moment Equius’ instincts almost convinced him to obey. Certainly they would have in another lifetime. But one look at Nepeta showed him every reason why he shouldn’t.

Gamzee’s eyes narrowed and he bared sharp fangs. “ _I said kneel, motherfucker! Is your pan rotted? Kneel to your betters!”_  

“I have no betters in this room.” Equius said in a threatening snarl. Gamzee gave an enraged noise and leapt down from the top of the tank. A blind mistake to make in his rage - and all the opening Equius needed.

Even before Gamzee had touched ground Equius was pitching back a fist. The blow he aimed at Gamzee’s face struck true; with a nasty crunch of bone and cartilage Gamzee was sent flying across the room. He hit the back wall and cracked it in a splatter of indigo, but by no means was he done.

There was a moment of silence but Equius wasn’t letting his guard down. He wiped his bleeding cheek, noting the green on his hands. His stomach twisted again and his eyes stung but there  was time for remorse after he’d avenged his precious moirail.

“Traitor.” Gamzee hissed as he pulled himself from the wall. Chunks of plaster came with him, dusting his clothes. 

Equius’ gaze snapped to him and his eyes narrowed to slits. He didn’t reply back as he rushed Gamzee. The clown’s eyes widened; he couldn’t stop or block as Equius pinned him, too fast in his rage to move. Truly this fight had been decided the moment they had been on even ground.

Equius’ hand closed around Gamzee’s throat. Hatred burned in his eyes, darker than pitch, darker than any black he’d known. This was a murderous hate. He reached up his other hand as Gamzee felt his lungs burning for air his own arms scrabbling at Equius’ hand, trying to free himself. He flinched - but all Equius did was wipe away the drops of green on his face.

“You don’t deserve her colour.” He said in a low growl.

Gamzee’s throat gave easily under Equius’ hand with a wet squelch.

 


	9. Prompt 9: Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porrim dies and is welcomed into the arms of her aspect.

It was the most agonizing pain Porrim had ever felt - and then, the most ecstatic joy.

Ascending to godhood was supposed to hurt, of course - after all, one had to _die_  in order for it to happen - and Porrim had prepared herself for the worst. But even the worst hadn’t been, in her imagination, the gut-roiling white-hot agony that she felt as her life slipped from her body. 

Porrim not so much laid on her quest bed as she’d staggered back, gasping for breath, hitting her head on the cold stone. If she’d been conscious she would have been grateful that she’d been knocked out quickly instead of letting herself fade into nonexistence.

Everything went black. It didn’t, however, _stay_  black.

Almost like flecks of paint on a charcoal canvas, soft dots of white splashed into her vision. She’d make a joke about seeing stars if she could, but her tongue felt heavy. All of her felt heavy, really, disconnected, as if she were chained to her body but not wholly in it. 

The universe expanded before her. Planets, stars, whole galaxies whirled and collided and died in front of her eyes as if she were watching the the intricate ballet of the Big Bang itself. Space, infinite and all-consuming, suddenly felt like her plaything. She _understood_ it, welcomed it, and in turn it welcomed her. The cold vastness one normally associated with space suddenly felt like a warm, enveloping caress. 

Porrim wondered vaguely, mid-ascension, if the others had felt this pure, utter wholeness and joy when they took on their aspects. It felt _right_ , for the first time since this hellish game had begun. Everything was clicking into place.

It felt like coming home again. 

 


	10. Prompt 10: Unbinding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hemoflip; Eridan is freed.

The minute the shackles came off Eridan’s wrists he backed away from the psion in front of him, fins flared and snarling. Coming fresh from a slave auction did not do anything for seadweller, who was already predisposed to a foul mood. 

“What do _you_  want?” He hissed, rubbing his raw wrists. 

Sollux Captor shrugged, hands in his pockets. He noted that despite the angry glare on Eridan’s face, he couldn’t turn it on a higher-blooded troll. It’d be almost funny if it weren’t so sad.

“I already got what I want,” He said, when it was clear that a shrug wouldn’t satisfy Eridan. That only seemed to make things worse, however, and Eridan’s fins flared. He let out a low hiss of warning before Sollux put up a hand in a placating manner. “Hey, don’t take it like that. I only meant, I came here specifically to free you. That’s all.”

All the air went out of Eridan’s sails. His fins even drooped in sheer dumbfounded confusion. “What.” 

“You heard me.” Sollux was the one who couldn’t meet Eridan’s eyes now. Eridan just looked bewildered. “I heard you and Feferi were captured, and well. That doesn’t really sit well with me.”

Eridan swore he spotted a hint of yellow in Sollux’s cheeks. “Feferi escaped a perigee ago,” He said slowly. Didn’t Sollux know that?

The slowly brightening colour in the very tips of Sollux’s ears said he did. Eridan bit back a smug little grin.

 


	11. Prompt 11: The Princess and the Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why am I the Princess?"  
> For the [Homestuck Artists Discord](http://homestuckartists.tumblr.com/) Flash prompt day!

“Why am I the princess?”

Dave looked up from his laptop with a look of utter confusion on his face. Karkat loomed over him, looking as if he’d just asked for the answer to life itself when really, Dave had no idea what the fuck he was even on about.

“What the fuck are you even on about.” He asked. Karkat gave an annoyed noise and flopped down on the couch beside him, prompting Dave to lift up his laptop with an annoyed “Hey!”

“You talk in your sleep.” Finally, some exposition. It was not, however, exposition that Dave wanted. He cursed under his breath. “And apparently you have some weird-ass dreams. I swear I heard you mumbling about astronaut crows once. This time it was something about princesses and dragons – Dave, do you think I look like some kind of princess?”

Dave snorted. “Probably.” He murmured, going back to his laptop. Karkat wasn’t satisfied with such a noncommittal answer, however, and lowered Dave’s laptop screen, threatening to put the computer to sleep. Another sharp, annoyed “Hey!” left his human matesprit’s lips and his brow furrowed, scowling under his shades.

Ah, finally, an expression.

“I understand the whole sleep talking thing but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.” Karkat went on, pressing for an answer. “Why am I the princess? I’m not even fuchsia–”

“Not that that matters anymore.” Dave cut in. “And you’re kind of a king now.”

“Not the point!” Karkat scowled at him and huffed. “Why am I some weird form of human royalty in your dreams?”

Dave gave a shrug. “I don’t know, am I the knight in these dreams? I mean that would make sense, seeing as I rescue you and all that shit.” The spluttering and the tiny vein that was pulsing in Karkat’s forehead told Dave that he was this close to being flipped black on. Whatever that meant. He still wasn’t used to troll romance.

“I don’t know, they’re not my dreams!” Karkat said, floundering for words now. “And I don’t need to be rescued, thank you very much! I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“Uh huh.” Dave couldn’t help a faint grin there as Karkat looked like he was about start screeching. Tormenting his boyfriend would forever be fun. He lifted up the lid of his laptop again and went back to his little project, hooking one bud of his headphones over his left ear. “Or, you know, maybe it’s some kind of subconsciously romantic thing. Maybe I see you as worthy of protecting. I dunno, Rose would probably have more to say on the subtleties of dream interpretation or whatever.”

Karkat’s spluttering died out as Dave spoke. His anger fizzled out and he shrunk into an annoyed, blushing ball of troll. Dave chuckled and put a hand in Karkat’s hair as the other settled his head in the unoccupied space of Dave’s lap.

“Asshole.” Karkat muttered.

 


	12. Prompt 12: Let it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kankri's never had someone who understood what it felt like to have people not listen to him.

Kankri was, and forever would be, grateful for Eridan’s patience. 

More often than not Kankri built up his feelings, blocked them off behind a solid brick wall of social justice and passive-aggression. He let them fester and rot, build up more and more until he couldn’t contain them anymore. And oh, boy, the explosion was always something to see.

It always happened because of something small. A tear in his shirt, a minor fight, and he was screaming his lungs out, fire and tears in his eyes, teeth bared and snapping in aggression.

The first time Eridan had seen it, it’d taken just two words to get Kankri to stop dead in his tracks; “I understand.”

Because he did, really; he did the same thing, only he was much worse at it than Kankri was. (To be fair, Kankri had three sweeps’ worth of experience on him.) But Kankri had shut down immediately with a shocked sort of hiccup. It’d been clear that Kankri didn’t know how to deal with someone who knew how it felt, who was there to talk to him - and not treat him like a child, like most Beforan moirails-slash-cullers would.

Eridan sat him down with a cup of tea and some biscuits. He didn’t touch him. He didn’t yell. He didn’t roll his eyes. In fact, not once did his eyes leave Kankri or glaze over. He let Kankri sob and scream and rant until he was breathless and shivering and feeling like he’d just laid himself bare, and even then gave him some extra time to collect himself.

At the end of it all, all Eridan said was a polite, gentle “Would you like some more tea?”

He didn’t argue. He didn’t invalidate. He didn’t ignore. Kankri had never had someone just sit and _listen_  before. 

Kankri gave a weak smile and held out his teacup.

 


End file.
